Let it Rain
by kabukimono
Summary: It is raining, and a training trip has gone terribly wrong. Guan Ping has never been more miserable in his life, and if Xingcai doesn't kill him, her father will. Rated M for sexual things, includes characters from DW8, and has slight spoilers for 3rd century China.


This was supposed to be a story about Guan Ping and his awkward attraction for Xingcai and somehow became something more. M for obvious reasons, and slight spoilers for third century China!

* * *

It was raining, and Guan Ping has never been more miserable in his life.

When the storms had first started they had rejoiced, because rain had been scarce so far that year. But after several days of the dreary weather, preventing them from getting any real work done, even his cheerful little sister had started complaining. The skies were too dark and the streets too wet, and more than once the younger people had hidden from the shrieks of maids after daring to venture outside and track in dirty water and mud when their thirst for activity had proven to be too much.

So that morning, when they had awoken and the skies were clear (if not still a little cloudy) and the air was crisp and warm, the whole castle was a flurry of orders as people rushed to get done what they had had to put off too long. And it was just after breakfast when he'd been asked by Guan Xing to train with him while the day was still nice. All too happy to oblige, even if it meant turning down Yinping's request for playtime (and they all hated making her sad), he had just finished getting dressed in his full armor when Zhang Bao had swept into their rooms, sister in tow, and just as quickly swept Guan Xing away.

"Sorry, Guan Ping!" He had barely had time to call over his shoulder. "But I really need to show him this new move." Likely the one that he'd been perfecting while trapped indoors and confined to the spacious main room, breaking more than one vase and causing them all to get in trouble. Guan Ping stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching them leave, before he chanced to glance down at Xingcai. She was dressed for sparring as well, and as usual, her face didn't betray any emotion as she watched the door swing shut.

It was only when they were alone, and Guan Ping began to inwardly panic over what to do, that she glanced up at him – a small smile on her lips that still made his heart jump even after all these years. "He showed me earlier. I wasn't very impressed." So that's what it was – Guan Xing wasn't likely to be impressed either, but Zhang Bao had no qualms about beating _him _to prove his attack's effectiveness – were he to try that on his sister, she'd likely beat him back into the ground.

He smiled back at her, and before he knew what he was doing, had replied- "Since your brother has taken Xing, can I take you instead?" As soon as he registered what he said, he could feel his ears burning and he stammered out an explanation. "Outside! Maybe, maybe we can train together. I – We're already dressed and ready to go. It seems like a waste. And it's such a good day out that we… we should take advantage of it!" That seemed a little better, yes.

Or not. She turned away slightly, and began to walk as though she were going back into her rooms. Behind her back, he slumped slightly as the tension left him. He knew she generally trained alone. Maybe her brother was the type who could convince her to spar with him instead, but Guan Ping didn't know how he could do it. He could never pester her in such a way.

And just when he had been about to turn around and go seek out Yinping for playtime after all, Xingcai stopped walking, turning just enough to look at him. "Are you coming?" It wasn't playful nor annoyed, but she seemed to realize that he was confused, and turned more fully to face him. "We'll go train. It's a nice day outside."

He was sure he couldn't keep the smile off his face, the silly grin as he walked beside her to the outer gates, sword slung over one shoulder, but he was too busy watching her walk to really notice or care if anyone might take note. Time with her like this was so rare nowadays, and it made him long for the days when they were younger, and carefree, and didn't have so many responsibilities that took up their time.

Before he knew it, they had ridden out into the countryside. They weren't the only ones who'd had the idea of getting some exercise while the weather was nice, after all, and warriors needed their space if they were going to avoid hitting other things or other people. And while maybe they didn't have to ride out so far, the air was sweet and clean, and it gave him an opportunity to spend some time alone with her, without worry of her father intruding in. What could go wrong?

He should never had asked, should he? The storm swept in before either of them could realize it was coming, as absorbed in their mock battle as they had been, and while they had gotten back on the horses just before the rain hit, a sudden burst of lightning and thunder spooked both horses. His grip on the reins, as steady as his grip on his sword, kept him from being thrown, but both of her hands had been preoccupied with her weapons, and it was with a startlingly loud scream that she hit the ground as her horse sped away.

"Xingcai!" He jumped from his own horse, only just noticing out of the corner of his eye as it spooked again and ran off, probably to join the other one. With luck – what little they seemed to have – they'd run back to their stables. But right now, Xingcai was more important – they could walk home, but if she were injured … he'd carry her back if he had to, but would never forgive himself.

"I'm fine," she answered tersely, and picked herself off the ground, waving off his extended hand, as though he couldn't see the slight limp in her movements. Another crash of lightning made them both cringe, and just as he thought it couldn't possibly get worse, the rain began to pour down with such great intensity that he almost couldn't see her, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the water.

An hour later (though it felt like a full day), it was still raining and he was still miserable. Guan Ping cursed his luck as he hunched over in the shadow of the tree roots. His Great Sword and her shield provided very little protection from the rain, but it was enough. Xingcai had wanted to walk through the rain anyway, but for once he had managed to stand his ground against her, pointing out that they could barely see anyway and were more than likely going to end up going in the wrong direction. At least she had easily accepted the outer robe that he had offered – he had several layers of clothing after all, and her own were painfully inadequate for getting wet in any sort of way – and was wearing it now like a cloak. It was just slightly oiled, and helped keep her dry, so perhaps her father would kill him quick and mercifully instead of drawing it out. Because he was sure he would him either way, for getting the two of them into this mess,

He couldn't even be happy that she was almost in his arms, practically sitting on his lap, while he used his greater bulk to further shield her from the rain that her shield and the tree above and behind them couldn't block. It worked to an extent and at least kept her from getting _wetter_ and the air between them was warm enough that he thought their clothing might actually dry at this rate. Or at least he thought _his_ might, based on how hot he was feeling around the ears. It wasn't fair, that life was forcing him to be so close to her like this. He might've been thrilled any other time, but she was surly from the fall and annoyed by the rain, and her posture was so tight he thought she might elbow him in the face if he put even one toe out of line.

And after an hour, he still didn't know where to put his hands.

He settled for keeping them at her waist, as though they were riding horseback together, tucking them into the loose ends of the robe she was clutching around her shoulders. But she was still tense, and one of her hands rested at his wrist as though in warning, as if she was seconds away from breaking it. She probably was, all things considered. His fingers twitched at the thought, and her grip tightened.

"Xingcai," he said quietly, his voice breaking a little. He really hadn't meant for this to happen, any of it. And it was all his fault that now the two of them were miserable, cold, wet and getting more so by the moment.

The awkward silence between them broken by his awkward comment, she was quiet another moment before answering. "Guan Ping." Though he didn't known what he had wanted her to say, he felt some sort of relief wash over him, relief which was quickly replaced by embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," He stammered out, and his hands flexed uncomfortably at her waist. She elbowed him sharply in the stomach as response, her legs shifting with annoyance, and he continued to talk despite the pain, his breath disturbing her hair piece, even as it hit him in the face. "I should have known better than to go out this far when the weather wasn't stable. We haven't trained together in so long, I was looking forward to testing my strength against yours. Once we have returned to the castle, my lady, I swear to you that I will make up for what's happened today. I'll do whatever you may ask of me." He paused for breath, mind searching for what to say next, when-

"Guan Ping." She replied again, shoulders hunching. "Shut up." Any threat in her voice was overshadowed by the sudden shiver that ran down her slight frame.

He shut his mouth, face burning again, and before his mind could protest, his arms had wrapped around her torso and pulled her a little closer, close enough so he could press his face into the back of her hair (and caused her shield to shift, banging him on the top of the head unpleasantly until Xingcai steadied it with a hand). He couldn't voice it, but he thought quietly that he would protect her this way, even if so far he wasn't doing a very good job of today.

They were quiet for a few more moments, just as awkward as before even if a bit more comfortable now, when another clap of thunder made them both cringe, and in their movement he noticed something he usually didn't put much thought to. He was a young man, after all, and holding a woman that he privately held feelings for made his body betray him much more than his words or actions ever could.

His face was now so hot that it was a wonder it didn't just dry her hair. But he breathed out, trying to keep himself steady, and tried not to focus on how warm and soft Xingcai was, even when she shifted her legs to keep the feeling in them, and how the hand not preoccupied with holding up her shield was still holding his wrist, but in a slightly less threatening way (or at least he wanted to think so), her fingers callused and rough against the backs of his own. He shuddered when she leaned back against him to stretch out her leg, and even the thought of Master Zhang Fei wasn't enough to keep him from getting uncomfortably hard at her proximity, almost to the point of pain. He had to bite his lip to keep from making a noise at the sensation, and at this point, Guan Ping was convinced that if her father or brother didn't kill him for this, _she_ would once she realized how improper he was being, even if it was purely a physical reaction. Mentally, he was on the verge of a complete breakdown. For all he wanted to be strong around her, to prove himself trustworthy as both a man and one of her closest friends, today's events were conspiring against him.

He fidgeted, squirmed, and was in the middle of trying to subtly shift himself into more of a kneeling position behind her, attempting to put some distance from her distracting warmth, when the tree branch that he was gripping was suddenly too wet for him to hold, and his hand slipped. With a hiss of pain and then a yelp of surprise, the burning in his hand as the rough tree root cut into his fingers was second only in intensity to the sensation between his legs when he grasped Xingcai's shoulder in an attempt to steady himself, and inadvertently pressed his hardness against her lower back. He felt her freeze up in response, and he groaned, both in reply to the inevitable beating he faced and the pain that emanated from his manhood.

He looked at his hand, bleeding slightly from the cuts, and his only thought was a vague '_Well, Guan Ping. You're dead.'_

Xingcai twisted to look at him, knocking his other hand off her shoulder with one arm as she did so. "Guan Ping," and to his surprise, even in the dimness he could tell that her cheeks were flushed. "Sit _down_." Wordlessly, surprised she had let him live this long, he sat, tucking his aching hand against his side. She was still twisted to watch him, half-risen on one knee, and she let of her shield (letting it bump against her back until he had the presence of mind to prop it up with his other hand instead) to turn around completely, facing him.

This wasn't exactly how he envisioned things going. Both of them were tired, wet, and smeared with mud. And she was angry, and he was upset and in pain, and as if in response to their moods the sky opened up further with an angry crack and a burst of lightning that lit up every detail of their angry and upset faces.

Xingcai sighed, and all at once he fell in love with her again as her face softened from its frown and she reached out to fix his clothing, fingers running along the seams of his unwieldy chest plate until she had found the ties that kept it fastened to the rest of his clothing, and in one smooth motion had begun to undo them.

"Xingcai?" He asked, confused. Maybe she was taking it off to make it easier to beat him? The metal would get in the way after all, and she only wore thin gloves that left her fingers free. But she shook her head and though it took some maneuvering, managed to set it aside next to them, where it was quickly joined by his thigh guards and most of his armor, leaving him in his casual clothes, and feeling distressingly bare in front of her. She was the one whose dress was so revealing that her thighs and underthings could be seen, much to the displeasure of her father, so why did he feel like he needed to cover up in front of her?

Oh.

Because of that.

While he had fretted quietly about his state of undress, as it were, Xingcai had slipped his robe off her shoulders and over her head, and had slid into his lap, thighs on either side of his, shifting the robe until it covered both of them comfortably, and slightly oiled as it was, kept much of the rain out of their hair. He could appreciate that, and appreciate the warmth of her breath on his neck as she settled on his lap, even though his breath hitched when she settled a little too close, and he dragged her shield closer until it was resting gently against her back, keeping out the remainder of the rain from their torso. It gave her just enough room to unhook her shoulder pads and let them fall to either side of their legs, and once they were out of the way, she leaned closer.

"I'm not angry at you," She finally said once she was situated, her head resting on his shoulder, her hands holding the robe loosely behind his back. He closed his eyes, and he couldn't tell if that thumping against his chest was her heart or his. "It isn't your fault," she continued, and he was reminded why he did love her so much, squeezing her waist gently with one arm. She could be merciless sometimes, but that outer strength masked gentleness inside and she was a good person underneath it all. Kind, and intelligent, and strong, and if he weren't a mad he would almost be giddy right now. "As soon as the rain stops we'll go back, and I won't let my father use you for weapons practice." He felt her lips curve into one of those rare smiles.

"I love you," he blurted out, even though he was sure he meant to say something like _Thank you. I appreciate that, Lady Xingcai. _"… Th-thank… you, Xingcai," he quickly interjected, hoping she hadn't heard him the first time.

If he wasn't a dead man before, he was a dead man now. Xingcai was quiet for an agonizingly long time, and he was beginning to think that maybe she _hadn't_ heard him, and her breathing was so soft and steady that he wondered if she had fallen asleep – or passed out from some sort of fever? It would explain a few things – and he was just leaning back to check on her when he felt her bite her lip, and her hips shifted, rocking against his still embarrassingly half-hard manhood.

His throat was suddenly too hot and dry to speak, which was just as well. It was if a dam had broken, just as the skies above had broken the clear day, and his mouth found hers before he could make things worse, breathing out his neediness into her mouth. And Xingcai, whom he had found had not needed a single thing from anyone since she was three, was replying in kind, her fingers reaching up to caress his face and tangle into the hair behind his neck, keeping the two of them close. He was convinced that he must have died – must have been killed somewhere along the line of this long afternoon – but then the pleasurepain of her weight against his erection was too intense for a dead man to feel. Xingcai wasn't an idiot – she had to have known what rocking herself against him would do, and yet she kept doing it until his breathing was ragged and uneven.

She broke the kiss first, and though he couldn't see her between the robe over their heads and the gray skies, he could feel the frown on her lips as she pressed them against his jaw. Her hand had started to wander along the clasp of his inner jacket, and it was with his wounded hand that he caught her fingers, suddenly frightened. She was fearless, and he was as well, but this was different than the battlefield. There was no honourable death to be found here, no glory in winning for one's country. It was just… the two of them.

He had to swallow before he could speak, and his words were betrayed by the twitching of his hips, arching up slightly into the pressure that she was causing. "W-we should… " He didn't know what to say to make things better. He knew, rationally, that they shouldn't go too far. A certain amount of exploration was to be expected from any teenager. But she was a young woman and he was a young man, and they were no longer children. And shameful as it was… he was scared. He needed to know if she was scared too.

Her response was a gentle hushing noise as she cupped his face, and the air between them was so hot and humid that he couldn't breathe, and he tugged the robe down her back until it fell across her shoulders, letting blessedly cool rain drops hit his burning cheeks. And in the dim light he could see her face again, cheeks just as flushed as his felt, eyes glassy with as much need as he felt, and her lips frowning as she contemplated their next move, like this were some sort of battle to be won. And just as before he fell in love with her again, not just because of her beauty but because of her strength and her commitment, and her intelligence, and he promised one day to tell her this in words and not just in actions, but for now his fingers were suddenly fumbling with the armor over her bodice, trying to divest her of as much as he could while still being somewhat mindful of the fact that they were in the middle of the woods, sitting in nothing but mud and rain, and while she was a warrior, right now she was something a little bit more, and he wanted to protect her.

Being warriors, both of them had heard enough raunchy stories from other soldiers to last several lifetimes, and it was those stories that he tried to recall as he traced the path of a raindrop with his tongue as it made its way down her shoulder and chest, curving against her pale skin to even paler skin, and her soft gasp fueled his desire even more. He kissed her again. Her hands worked to loosen his clothing, as it seemed she didn't feel it was appropriate to remove said clothing, and the instant that one of her callused hands made contact with his aching erection, he made a sound unbecoming of a man, one that – he noted hazily - made her smile. She was touching him, _touching_ him, and her free hand was splayed against the muscle of his chest, nails scratching lightly at his damp skin, and he was suddenly afraid he wouldn't last very long if she kept handling him in such a way, and the fingers of his uninjured hand slid between her legs in response.

The noise _she_ made was delightful, and he was suddenly arching over her, Xingcai laid out on her back with his robe the only barrier between her half bared skin and the muddy grass. Her panties – something he'd always been so embarrassed to notice before – were nothing more than a minor hindrance, and he kept kissing her hair, rocking his hips against her unskilled but learning hand, and his own fingers fumbled gently as he tried to learn her inner workings just as much as he had tried to learn the outer. Above all, he didn't want to hurt her, and if there was one thing that he took away from what some of the stories foot soldiers had told, it was that women hurt their first time.

And it was those stories that made him hesitate, even as he thought he might die from the fire that was building his stomach, amazed he hadn't yet burst into flame (though he supposed the rain was helping in that regards), and even as Xingcai's hips lifted and met the jerky and unpracticed rhythm of his hand as he explored and touched her, and she felt so hot underneath him, he wondered that she hadn't burst into flame either. And he hesitated, even when she said his name in a plaintive way he had only _imagined_ before, on dark nights after long days when he was especially tired and frustrated.

"I can't," He choked out, and despite his words, he leaned closer to her, kissing her temple briefly. She looked up at him with confusion, or maybe something else that he couldn't quite identify in the lack of light, and he continued, so he could explain. "I can't hurt you." Physically, nor did he want to hurt her reputation, at least when it came to this.

The eyeroll that she gave him made him snap his mouth shut, and she pushed at his chest until he sat up on his heels, a little confused and a little… hurt? That confusion and hurt quickly gave way to other feelings as she straddled his legs again, cradled his face with her hands, slipped his headband off, smoothed his hair back from his wet face and said in no uncertain terms. "You can't hurt me."

And that was that. She was right after all (she tended to be) and he helpfully held her hips with his hands as she steadied herself over him, and with only the slightest bit of hesitation, glancing up into his face before looking back down between them, moved herself down until he was fully inside her in one smooth motion. The act stole all the air from his lungs and all the rational thoughts from his head.

For a moment, he felt he might be dreaming because there was no way anything could feel _that_ impossibly good, especially with her, but that moment faded when Xingcai let out a low groan in the back of her throat, back hunching and body tensing as she stayed still, eyes shut tight. Had he hurt her after all? In a panic, he rubbed her back with the fingers of one hand, drawing her closer with the other. She shook her head, but her arms wrapped around his back, and he felt the slight sting of her nails digging into the muscle at his shoulders. For a long moment they held each other, and he pressed his cheek against hers, trying to pretend that the warm fluid that slid down her cheek and onto his was just a raindrop that had warmed upon contact with their skin and nothing more. She was tense, breathing measured and steady, and the realization that she was human and he had hurt her made him feel sick. They fought, they trained, made each other bleed, and broke more than one bone, but this was a pain more intimate than ever before, and in all his fantasies and dreams about being together with her in such a way, he had imagined it would be better than this.

He had just gathered the courage to stop it when she pulled back, and though her eyes were glassy, they were as determined as ever. She kissed him, and his courage quickly became cowardice, giving into the complex swirl of emotions building in his stomach and chest, and even though she was usually the leader when it came to their training, he quickly overcame her this time, shielding her body from the rain with his own even as he noticed that it had stopped raining entirely. As dominant as she was, she didn't seem to mind, her fingers touching him, guiding him through his movements, training him in a way with pain from her nails, and just like always, he responded to her training as best he could.

It seemed it was finished almost as quickly as it began. He was _young_, after all, and still inexperienced. His love for her could only go so far, and he whispered out another apology (for which she thumped him on the back) as they cooled off, his weight heavily on top of her, since the two of them knew she could handle it.

"Guan Ping," she said after some time and he woke from what he thought was a doze, warm from her heat below him and also cool from the wet clothing he was still half-robed in. For a moment or two, he could barely remember what had happened, and he glanced down her body before sitting up, his face heating up again. She was remarkable calm about the situation, as though nothing had changed between them, and as he nervously fixed his clothing, she straightened her own and tried in vain to comb her fingers through her wet and tangled hair, her demeanor only made strange by the fact that he was still kneeling in between her legs.

"It's stopped raining," she pointed out, and he looked up into the sky, noting that it seemed more blue and clear than ever before, as though the world was suddenly in a new light. She took the opportunity to punch him, and he yelped quite unmanly-like. "Let's get home before something else happens."

"Y-yes!" The smile that he gave her was nothing short of relieved and maybe a little lovesick, and she seemed reticent for a moment before smiling at him in return, and even accepted his hand as he helped her stand up. If she was in pain, she masked it well, and he knew better than to ask out loud – instead, he rested a hand on her hip for a moment, questioningly, and was relieved when she squeezed his wrist threateningly.

His robe was soaked and her panties were a mess, and both of their armor was so caked with mud it would be impractical to wear back to the castle, but they prevailed like the warriors they were, helping each other get just enough back on to make the trip easier. The rest they wrapped up in his robe, knotted tightly, and Guan Ping held it over his shoulder with one hand, his Great Sword in the other.

What does one say to a woman they just made love to?

As they walked back in silence, he wracked his mind for answers, for anything, maybe a memory of a less raunchy story one of the foot soldiers had told. But this was the kind of thing he'd never asked his father, couldn't exactly ask any of his brothers, and hadn't ever thought he'd get any sort of experience in. He just knew what _not_ to say, judging by the amount times the soldiers had talked about being slapped.

Both of their hands preoccupied, the walk back to the castle wasn't romantic so much as it was quiet, and the acceptance and calmness radiating from her form helped his state of mind. She hadn't killed him, and even though he was still sure that Master Zhang Fei and Zhang Bao might try to once he returned, he had at least shared something special with her before his death.

The sound of horses made them both pause, and Xingcai was already holding her sword and shield, ready for a fight, but just as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, Masters Zilong and Ma Dai came into sight, and beside their own mounts the two men held the reins of two familiar horses, the same two that had left them stranded to begin with.

Relief washed over him. Of all people, these two would definitely let him live to see the castle again, rather than kill him messily and leave his body for the animals.

"Xingcai," Zilong called, his face somewhat relieved as he pulled up beside the two younger warriors. "You're limping."

"The horse threw me," she replied, as she mounted said horse, and Guan Ping felt his stomach jump when she settled gingerly into her saddle, steadfastly refusing to look at any of them as her body tensed in discomfort.

"They came back all spooked," Ma Dai offered as explanation, handing over the reins to Guan Ping, who managed to climb into the saddle despite the load in both his hands. "We thought we'd ride out and try to find you before they tried to send out some sort of official search party." He whistled in a low tone, one hand reaching up to adjust his hat as the other held tightly onto the reins of the horse he turned around. "You're in big trouble."

"Thank you," was all Guan Ping could think of to say. Oh, he knew he was in trouble, all right. How could he not?

"What happened to your armor?" Ma Dai asked the two of them as the group made their way back to the castle, and it seemed like in no time at all, the castle gates could be seen in the distance.

"We got caught in the rain," Xingcai replied before Guan Ping could think of a reply. "It became waterlogged, so we had to take some of it off." If she noticed the way Zilong glanced between her and Guan Ping, she didn't react. Ma Dai didn't say anything, either, just shrugged and reached over to pet the neck of Xingcai's still skittish horse.

As suspected, Zhang Fei was not pleased, and Guan Ping could hear him yelling even before they reached the courtyard inside the gates. He watched as Xingcai quickly went from taciturn to annoyed (even if only in body language, her face remaining as impassive as ever) when their families came into view and she firmly placed her horse between her ranting father and the rest of the riding men. That was comforting, at least.

"We're fine_,_ Father." She was at least kind enough to let him help her off her horse, as though that might soothe some of his frazzled nerves, and though she staggered somewhat when her feet hit the ground, Zhang Fei was didn't seem to notice in lieu of how completely and utterly _soaked_ she was. From the hairpiece that had come mostly undone by the wetness, to her wet and squelching shoes.

"If she gets sick because of this, I'll…!" Whatever Zhang Fei would do to him, he'd never know, because Guan Yu had stepped between his brother and his son to welcome Guan Ping home, and Yinping had already tugged the heavy mass of armor and robe from her eldest brother's hands and Suo was offering blankets to both Xingcai and Ping, and no one was really paying Zhang Fei any attention anymore.

"Guan Ping did well. He kept us safe," Xingcai offered later when the two of them were in dry, warm clothing, and finishing up a late dinner with their siblings and Liu Shan. She seemed to be much improved, both physically and in attitude, and she even smiled at him across the room! In public! He looked down into his bowl and blushed, a little ashamed of how her smile could catch him off guard more than a hundred archers in an ambush. He needed to work on this, it seemed. If anyone else noticed, they didn't say anything, because Zhang Bao asked Guan Xing something, and their argument took everyone's attention.

But that small bit of praise made it all worth it, even when he came down with a bad cold in the middle of the night and spent the next week in bed, chilled and feverish. And when it turned out that he needed to replace his robe for another one because the one she had borrowed was so muddy and torn it could not be salvaged despite the maids' collective best efforts. And even when Xingcai pulled him aside one day after training in the courtyard to grasp his collar and tell him that she was never angry at him for his actions that day, but that neither of them could afford such distractions anymore. Their friendship, their relationship, could never be the same again, but they were still friends and she would always fight beside him in any way she must until they were both as strong as they needed to be. He agreed.

And it made packing up for Fan Castle worth it, even knowing that he wouldn't be able to see her for months as she prepared to join her own father for a campaign. He promised to show her after the battle how much more he had grown, and she promised to let him train with her again.


End file.
